


please don’t ever change

by epilogues



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Break Up, M/M, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:29:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epilogues/pseuds/epilogues
Summary: but you don’t like me the way i am





	please don’t ever change

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is, a little vent sorta thing i guess? i wrote it at two am so whoo!

“Light’s green,” Joe says.

Pete blinks, once, twice, before tearing his eyes away from some distant point and pressing down on the gas.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah - just, like, zoned out,” Pete says. He taps his thumbs on the steering wheel, a beat Joe for once doesn’t recognize, and sighs in a way that’s clearly only meant for himself.

“Are you sure?” Joe shifts slightly in his seat. There’s been a weird tension in the car all morning, but it seems worse than before now.

Pete shrugs. “Yeah, I’m just. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just - “ Pete shrugs again. “I… can we, like, talk?”

“Yeah,” Joe says, trying to keep his voice steady. He has a sinking feeling in his gut, like he knows exactly what this is about.

Pete swallows audibly as he flicks his turn signal on. Joe suddenly can’t remember where they’re even going. “So,” Pete says, “I, fuck, I don’t know. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Joe replies automatically.

“And you know I love you no matter what, and I know I said this wasn’t a big deal last time we talked,” Pete says, continuing on like Joe hasn’t even spoken. “And, I don’t even, this isn’t even, like, something that has to even be a thing, but…”

Joe reaches for Pete’s hand, but it’s somehow not on the console where it always is. That feels like way more of a sign than he’s ready for, and his heart’s in his throat when he says, “Pete - “

“But I think we should take a break.”

Pete’s words drop like bricks, like a clap of thunder before the sky opens up, like a cartoon anvil falling from above and squashing Joe completely flat. He swears he’s still seeing stars when he stammers out, “This is because … this is because I’m ace.”

(It’s not a question.)

“It’s not, like,” Pete protests. His hands are shaky on the wheel as he changes lanes. “It’s not just because of that, Joe, and -“

“It’s because I’m ace,” Joe repeats. He feels suddenly numb, because Pete said he wouldn’t do this, this isn’t supposed to be happening, this _can’t_ be happening. He had been hesitant to come out to Pete, but it had been okay. It was _supposed_ to have been okay.

Pete bites his lip, hard, for several moments before he answers. “I love you,” he starts, “and I’m not going to, like, leave you over this. But maybe just a break would be good for, for both of us, you know?”

“How long?” Joe asks. The numbness is already receding and leaving him with a heavy, suffocating ache clawing its way up his throat.

Pete pulls up to the front of another intersection just as the light turns red. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “I’m sorry. We can - we can go home if you want.”

Joe suddenly remembers where they’re supposed to be going, they’re on their way to dinner on a _date_ , and now Pete’s telling him that they’re going on a break, and he _can’t_ do this. But he also can’t stand the idea of going home like this, so he stays silent.

“I’m sorry,” Pete says again, like it’ll help anything, and the heartbroken, guilty look in his eyes is what makes Joe realize he’s crying.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, wiping at his eyes because he’s fine. He’s fine. This is fine. It’s just a break, that’s all, and then they’ll be back to normal.

“Joe, seriously, we don’t have to -“

“It’s fine,” Joe insists. “We’re going.”

Pete opens his mouth to protest as a small blink registers in the corner of Joe’s eye. “I love y-“

Joe interrupts him by jerking his thumb towards the air in front of their car, taking in a shallow, shaky breath. “Light’s green,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! comments/kudos are rly appreciated!


End file.
